Don’t be Times Square. Be the Flatiron Building.

A surreal teaching video recently put into focus just how artificial class can be, and in particular how inauthentically the role of teacher is often played. I want my students to see me as human, deserving of their respect. I don’t want my authority in the classroom to arise from the power of grades, or sending kids out, or threats, or yelling, or just being an adult, so how do I gain authority with my students?

I can backtrack this for a long time, stopping thought after thought, thinking “yeah, but how do I do that?” How do I show them that respect is important? How do I get students to give each other their attention? How do I get them to deserve each other’s attention? How do I get them to do anything without already having authority?

I try to do this a little differently every year. I’ve tried “norming.” Several times, I’ve included, “just don’t piss me off.” (pathetic in hindsight) I’m looking for something more sustainable, a potential motto for my students and me alike. Here’s what I’m thinking.

Don’t be Times Square. Be the Flatiron Building.

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I live in New York City, and I love the architecture. One place I really hate, though, is Times Square. As a new yorker you almost need an excuse for being there, because no one wants to be caught dead in such a gaudy tourist trap. Times Square is screaming at you with its lights, sounds, and overactivity. It’s almost oppressive to the senses. Times Square demands your attention, like all caps – LOOK AT ME!!!! I’M WORTH LOOKING AT!!!! SEE!?!?!?!?!? COOL HUH?!!? Every time I see it, I want out.

I was talking today about a teacher who typifies the “Times Square” approach to authority. He is overpowering, dominant, and very very loud with his elementary school students. Many students come to love him, but some, so I hear, are traumatized each year. My approach to teaching relies on student values, but his method is all about pressing value and compliance down from above. It’ll never work for me and my students.

Times Square is sensational, but completely unsustainable. How much time can you spend there, in the lights and the crowd, before being completely overwhelmed, fatigued, and disinterested? Who grows thoughtful in that environment?

* * *

The Flatiron Building, on the other hand, is my personal favorite. One of the first skyscrapers, and once the tallest building in the world (at a mere 285 feet), there’s no question it was originally an attention grabber. Even still, its design is striking and has stopped me in my tracks several times, but it’s much quieter architecturally. It gives you room to stand and admire it. Every time I see it, I want to stare.

What makes the Flatiron so compelling and inviting is its simplicity and beauty. If I can just show my students beautiful and inviting mathematics, and give them the space they need to respond and take it on, they might stay longer in its presence. This means taking time to appreciate content, and it means quieting down to share in the experience together. If I can model this behavior and bring them the Flatiron building, perhaps they’ll follow suit.

Everyone knows Times Square for the lights and the crowds, but who knows what the buildings actually look like?

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Discussion

4 thoughts on “Don’t be Times Square. Be the Flatiron Building.”

Times Square always seems a bit like Vegas. It seems American, but in all the worst ways. It’s the side of us that we don’t wish to be true. Anything that large, that shrinks humanity into something so small, is not simply deeply unsetting, but actually pretty dangerous.

Paul, I like the analogy and what it suggests about having purpose in creating learning spaces and communities. How would your classroom’s authority, sharing, and beauty be impacted by students’ sharing their favorite buildings, sites, haunts, or neighborhoods before you share yours? What might students see in Times Square and share with you before hearing your perspective?

If I read you write, Chad, you’re actually asking about architecture right? I admit, for all of my talk, I haven’t shared this metaphor with any of my classes yet. Some may have read my blog, but I’ve been building cultures in more plain terms, or at least other analogies.

It would be interesting to talk architecture with them. I have a feeling some might thrive on the excitement of Times Square, and perhaps we can find ways to import that energy into our class while excluding the attributes I want to avoid.

Not only architecture, but community and values. When I make an value statement in class, I often wonder afterwards if I cut off something a student might say or discover for fear of what I expressed in my value statement. What would happen if kids began making the comparisons before they heard our takes on the Times Squares of our worlds?